


Mouthful

by frozenCinders



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Bloodplay, Dark Irregulars, M/M, PWP, Self-Harm (but not the depression kind), Stockholm Syndrome, Unhealthy Relationships, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 21:42:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8770405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenCinders/pseuds/frozenCinders
Summary: "Pet," Scharhrot addressed, causing Satoru to look up from his deep bow in response, "what would you do for a kiss from me?"





	

"Pet," Scharhrot addressed, causing Satoru to look up from his deep bow in response, "what would you do for a kiss from me?"

"Anything," Satoru answered quite easily.

Scharhrot's eyes were half-lidded and bored, legs crossed, his face expressionless, and his voice sounding like it wasn't worth the effort to speak. He didn't seem to react to Satoru's response, lazily beckoning him over without another word. Satoru, feeling awkward about looking down on his master now that he was close enough to, instead opted to hesitantly kneel in front of Scharhrot, keeping careful watch for any indication that he should be standing after all.

Scharhrot's eyes looked even more tired while looking down on Satoru, who had to resist the urge to ask if his master had been getting enough sleep. He glanced to the covered windows, then back to Scharhrot.

"Permission to speak?" he asked, conscious of his posture and hoping his slight adjustments didn't make him appear nervous.

"No," Scharhrot said, "I have something for you to do first."

Satoru opened his mouth to ask about it, but closed it and decided to wait instead.

"Fetch me a knife."

Having been explicitly told he didn't have permission to question him at the moment, Satoru just nodded and stood, hoping he was lucky enough to get any specifics in mind correct. Probably sharp, small, and not serrated.

Satoru looked through the collection in the kitchen and picked a satisfactory one out, careful of how he was holding it. While accidentally cutting himself was hardly an issue, it would certainly be a shame to spill blood where Scharhrot couldn't drink it. He knocked again on the door to the throne room, careful never to be presumptuous, and waited for permission to enter. Upon reaching his master once more, Satoru offered the knife to him, handle first.

"Listen carefully, pet. Mistakes will not be allowed at this time," Scharhrot spoke without taking the knife, causing Satoru to stiffen up slightly.

"Yes, master?" he acknowledged in a low voice, brow furrowed slightly and hand slowly retreating, turning the blade in his hand to hold it by the handle again.

"Hold out your hand."

Satoru obeyed, holding his free hand out, palm up.

"Take the blade and press it against your finger. Do not cut it yet," he ordered. Satoru waffled slightly over which finger to choose, pressing it against his thumb for some reason but quickly assuming changing fingers was out of the question.

"Now slowly cut into it. Not too deep. I'll tell you when to stop."

Satoru couldn't help the look of growing desperation and confusion in his eyes. Getting hurt was one thing, but he'd never purposely hurt himself before, never been ordered to do so. In his hesitance, he found his face tightly gripped between claws.

"I am trusting you to do this properly. Now obey," Scharhrot commanded, extremely difficult for his thrall to resist.

Satoru did as told, slowly slicing the side of his thumb, biting his lip as he endured the pain, his eyes quickly flicking back and forth between his finger and Scharhrot.

"Stop," Scharhrot said, and Satoru belatedly noticed the grip on his face had loosened before releasing him entirely, tiny crescent marks scattered about his jaw still stinging but no longer being aggravated. Scharhrot disliked damaging his face anyway.

As Satoru removed the knife, a surprising amount of blood started trickling down his hand.

"Catch it in your mouth. Don't swallow it."

Satoru licked the trail of blood up his arm to the source, closing his lips around the wound and allowing the blood to flow into his mouth. The flavor was extremely overbearing, tasting like when he'd put an old coin in his mouth out of curiosity as a child, yet somehow worse. As the blood flow began to ease up, Satoru found it difficult not to swallow the mouthful, eager to get rid of it.

"That's enough. Don't swallow," he reminded, beckoning Satoru closer with one finger. Satoru's eyes widened as he remembered Scharhrot's earlier question, his suspicions confirmed when Scharhrot lightly patted his lap, legs uncrossed.

Satoru carefully set the knife aside on a nearby table and climbed onto Scharhrot's lap, hand over his mouth as if that would catch any stray drops of blood, and hesitantly sat. Scharhrot tapped the corner of his mouth and Satoru leaned in to kiss him, not able to stifle his noise of surprise when Scharhrot yanked his mouth open.

Satoru quickly leaned over Scharhrot, trying to waste as little blood as possible, though it was already running down both their chins and quite likely staining their clothes. Scharhrot gripped the back of Satoru's head to hold him close, his other hand trailing down to rest on Satoru's hip. Scharhrot's tongue met Satoru's own in his efforts to drink the blood from his mouth, delving deeper than necessary to earn a moan out of Satoru. When Scharhrot had swallowed most of it, he pulled Satoru's head away.

"Lick it up," he said, finger trailing alongside one of the thin streaks of blood on his face.

Satoru obliged, savoring the rare taste of his master's skin, the sensation of how his lips felt still lingering on his own. He couldn't help another moan, taking great care not to grind down against Scharhrot as he slowly licked down his throat, tongue barely out of his mouth as he used the order as an excuse to kiss his neck. This earned him a sharp pull of his hair, but it was certainly worth it.

Momentarily forgetting his place, Satoru leaned in.

"Please let me suck you off," he whispered without delicacy, face burning at his own request.

Scharhrot considered him for a moment, bringing him closer to lick the blood off of his chin before answering with a hum. He ran his hand along Satoru's back before him kneeling caused Scharhrot's fingers to end up right back in his soft hair. Satoru's fingers trembled with excitement as he exposed his master's cock, noticing some more blood had made it out of his thumb as he did so.

Satoru quickly pressed his thumb to his mouth again and stood without permission, Scharhrot impatiently yanking him forward to steal the blood away before gesturing for him to sit again. A pleasurable shudder made its way up Satoru's spine as he kissed at the tip of Scharhrot's cock, so incredibly grateful for the opportunity to please his master. Scharhrot's thumb gently stroked behind Satoru's ear as he eagerly swallowed the entire length, a small moan vibrating in his throat and earning a sigh from Scharhrot. Satoru did not in any way want the moment to end faster than it had to, but the feeling of Scharhrot's cock hitting the back of his throat and his grip tightening on Satoru's hair was too good for him to slow down.

Just as Satoru was scooting his knees forward a bit to get closer, Scharhrot tugged at his hair. Satoru reluctantly pulled away and looked up at his master, taking a moment to wipe the drool from the corner of his mouth. Scharhrot patted his lap again, and Satoru looked around for any readily available lubricant and attempted to find his breath to speak with.

"We, ah... do we have..?"

"Just get up here. I shouldn't have to tell you twice."

At that, Satoru obeyed, considering stopping for a moment to ask if he should undress, but it would be disastrous if Scharhrot had to reiterate yet again. Instead of ordering him to undress, Scharhrot slid his hands up Satoru's shirt, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close, nose buried in his neck.

Scharhrot grabbed Satoru's hand and put his injured thumb to his mouth, sucking deeply for all the blood he could drain from the cut. Satoru held back a keening whine when Scharhrot dragged a finger down his clothed erection, it finishing as a squeak as Scharhrot pulled the waistband of his pants down just enough to free him. Satoru struggled not to move his hips, hands twitching. Scharhrot then lowered Satoru's hand from his mouth and took his other hand as well, holding them both behind Satoru's back.

"Move," he said, without explanation. Satoru looked down, not once attempting to move his arms, and hesitantly rocked his hips forward.

When his eyes flicked back up to Scharhrot's and found no disapproval, Satoru started properly grinding against his master. As he moved, Satoru's eyes closed and fantasies filled his mind.

He'd always wanted to ride Scharhrot's fingers- _his breath hitched_ \- but his nails got in the way, leaving Satoru to prepare himself every time, if at all.

Their time together a few days ago also came to mind, with- _Satoru released a trembling moan_ \- with Scharhrot relentlessly fucking him into the mattress on his front, arms tied behind his back, blindfolded, neck and shoulders littered with bite marks as usual, with his cock rubbing against the thick blanket with every thrust that rocked his body forward.

Reluctantly shaking thoughts of the past out of his head, Satoru focused on enjoying the present, finding a very nice angle that brought his head forward, flinching when he unintentionally ended up a few centimeters from his master's face. Satoru swallowed and moved forward as much as he could, baring his neck in invitation. Scharhrot accepted it without hesitation, nipping at his jaw before moving to his favorite spot, tongue running over the practically permanent indents there. Satoru's rhythm stuttered when Scharhrot bit him, and his orgasm caught him by surprise, splattering thick white fluid onto Scharhrot's cock, the sight- the _feeling_  of it one of the best things he'd ever experienced.

"P-please- please let me lick it off," Satoru begged, still riding the high of his climax, still frotting against his master.

"Good boy," Scharhrot murmured, releasing Satoru's hands and moving one of his own up to Satoru's face, flicking his hair aside before Satoru slid back down to the floor in a haze.

Satoru enthusiastically lapped at Scharhrot's cock, pausing for a moment to lick his come off Scharhrot's clothes as well. A bit over excitedly, Satoru brought his hand up from its resting place on Scharhrot's knee to stroke him, suckling at the tip as he did so before taking about half of it into his mouth. Satoru looked up at Scharhrot, whose head was leaned beautifully on his shoulder, and moaned, picking up the pace with renewed vigor despite his own quickly softening length.

When Scharhrot came with a visible shudder, his claws digging into the back of Satoru's neck, Satoru gladly caught every drop in his mouth, sucking at him until he was sure he had it all.

"Open," Scharhrot languidly commanded, clearly sated.

Satoru happily obliged, opening his mouth for Scharhrot to see his white-coated tongue, not bothering to catch the drops escaping down his chin. Scharhrot liked a bit of a mess.

"Now swallow."

Satoru closed his eyes as he did so, opening them slowly as he licked his lips. Satoru knew for a _fact_ he saw a glint of approval in Scharhrot's eyes.

"Good boy, Satoru," Scharhrot praised with a nearly unnoticeable smile. Satoru's eyes widened and his grip on Scharhrot's knee tightened. He almost never used his name...

"I am forever yours to use, master," Satoru affirmed, knowing there was never any doubt. "It's all I want. Thank you so much..."

Scharhrot patted his lap again and held Satoru close, brushing his slightly damp hair out of his face. As the two of them wound down, Scharhrot whispered promises of a reward into Satoru's ear.

**Author's Note:**

> i... still suck at using nsfw tags. it's just too funny to me to tag something with anal sex or fingering or whatever else i'm sorry


End file.
